


Don't Complicate It

by OccasionallyCreative



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A Stable Salary? In This Economy?, Alpha Ben Solo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben Solo Makes Bad Decisions, Ben Solo: Human Trash Can, But so does Rey, Dom/sub, Dominant Ben Solo, Enthusiastic Consent, Eventual Sex, F/M, Idiots in Love, Job Interviews, Mutual Pining, Omega Rey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-01 11:01:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17243072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionallyCreative/pseuds/OccasionallyCreative
Summary: Rey, an Omega, in order to get a job as a chalet hostess, poses as a Beta. On getting the job, she's assigned to the chalet owned by the Organa-Solo family, with Rose Tico as her co-hostess. Rey thinks that it'll be a breeze; all she has to do for a season is cook, clean and serve drinks to society bigwigs. What could happen?Ben Solo, of course. Ben Solo, big old Alpha, who Rey finds herself in need of when her plan to pose as a Beta goes suddenly awry...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [monsterleadmehome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterleadmehome/gifts).



> Happy New Year, fellow Reylos!
> 
> I'm kicking off this year with a trope I've never written before but have always wanted to - ABO! For this treat, I took monsterleadmehome's request for ABO and her prompt of "Some kind of holiday AU (could be modern or historical) where Rey gets invited to spend Christmas/Hanukkah/New Year’s with Ben’s family and sees how dysfunctional they are, but she falls in love with them and him anyway. Would love this to be full of humour, angst and fluff". And I really hope that I do both justice!
> 
> In regards to updates, I cannot promise a consistent schedule as, to be kind to my mental health, I'm deciding to be easier on myself in regards to pushing things out. Plus, I want to make sure this fic is the best it can be.
> 
> All the credit goes to [dietplainlite](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dietplainlite/works) / [kylo-wouldnt-like-those-chips](http://kylo-wouldnt-like-those-chips.tumblr.com/), [smols-darklighter](http://smols-darklighter.tumblr.com/) and [orevet](http://orevet.tumblr.com/), who were the co-founders of the _excellent_ restaurant pun, Taco Doña.

**Mechanical Fitter**  
£20,000 per annum

 _We are sorry but due to current company structure, we cannot consider any applications from Omega candidates. We are a global market leader in the design and manufacture of bulk parts…_ See more

**Driver/Fitter**  
£15.60 per hour

 _***BETA CANDIDATES ONLY PLEASE*** If you’ve got an interest in cars, we are hiring…_ See more

 

Rey rolled her eyes. Her thumb tracked quickly over her phone screen, through the pages of recommended jobs.

 

 **Chalet Hostess**  
£200 a day, plus tips

 _The ideal candidate for this position must be conscientious, welcoming and quick to adapt to any client requests. Due to the nature of the role, we are only considering Beta_ or _Alpha candidates…_ See more

**Office Junior  
**£16,000 per annum

 _We are only taking Beta candidates at this time. My client is a forward-thinking, ever-evolving company…_ See more

 

“You are the least suitable person for an office job.” Finn swallowed as Rey glared at him. “I mean, in terms of like, actual work. Not your status.”

 

“What, single, poor, unable-to-afford-proper-heat-suppressants Omega?” Rey dropped her phone onto the booth table, sighing. She pressed the heel of her palm against her forehead.

 

Obviously, modern society had come a long way from the ancient days, when Omegas were nothing more than tools for breeding. But it meant that humanity had been too preoccupied, really, with the big things to focus on the cost of heat suppressants.

 

(Some cultures, like the Vikings, had taken Heats to mean Omegas were all-powerful. Sometimes, when faced with her bank account after forking out for suppressants and enduring the latest deluge of knot pics on Tinder, Rey felt slightly annoyed she hadn’t been born as a Viking. But at least she could forward the received knot pics to the Alpha’s girlfriends.)

 

Even though it was a woman who’d made the scientific discovery of the century by discovering the combination of chemicals that reduced the cocktail of pheromones and hormones that brought on a Heat and led to the first suppressants, and even though Rey had a poster of Marie Curie on her wall out of gratitude, that didn’t stop asshole companies from openly saying _hey, we know you’d be great for this job, if your biology was different_.

 

Finn sighed, tilting his head to study Rey. She eyed him wearily.

 

“You’re okay,” she mumbled. She flicked the edge of the menu, lying flat on the table between them, up with her thumb. She worried her bottom lip. “You’re a cadet, in the military. You’re going places. I’m stuck in my uncle’s shitty scrap metal shop.”

 

"You know full well that until I got into the army, no employer would look my way because though they didn’t say it, there was always a hint that they thought a black Alpha should do something ‘better’ with his life.” Finn cocked an eyebrow. “You aren’t the only one suffering, Peanut.”

 

For a moment, Rey hated Finn; because he was so right. Then the hate fell away into shame for whining when there were others who _did_ have it worse. She looked away from him. Her cheeks burning, she picked out the lettuce from her taco.

 

“But,” Finn said, easing the sudden tension, “like I was saying – you would go insane within a week shut away in an office.”

 

Rey’s phone whistled with a notification. Another batch of emails from another bunch of job sites.  

 

She pressed her lips together as she flicked through them.

 

“She can make a mean taco though.”

 

Rey looked over her shoulder, already smiling at the sound of Maz’s voice. Maz Kanata was tiny, at 5’2” barely reaching up to Rey’s shoulder, but she ran her business with a firm hand and a twinkle in her eyes behind thick-framed glasses.

 

Her restaurant, Taco Doña, was a mess of aesthetics and years. Trinkets collected through the decades Maz had owned the business lined shelves. 1950s booths matched 1970s barstools, while Mexican decals on the walls reflected her heritage, decals that had been painted and re-painted by Maz’s own hand.

 

Ever since the 2016 election, the evening of which Maz had handed out free liquor and told everyone to fight the oncoming storm and strangle the _fucking orange_ of his power, she’d hung anti-Trump signs on her door, switching them out with another, more obviously anti-Trump one whenever someone tried to complain.

 

“Had a great teacher,” Rey replied. She kept scrolling.

 

Maz winked in return, strolling down the aisle. She whistled softly.

 

“Hey,” Finn remarked, wiping crumbs from the corners of his mouth, “maybe one day you could take over this place.”

 

“I’m not _that_ old!” Maz said, venturing into the kitchens.

 

“In like… 20 years or so,” Finn added.

 

“Better,” called Maz. Swallowing down another bite, Rey smiled.

 

“I don’t know… Overdrafts don’t wait 20 years.” Her smile faded, returning to a frown as she looked through another email, another list of jobs. “Look at this.”

 

Rey thrust the phone into Finn’s hand, wiping her hands on her trousers. Finn winced.

 

“Peanut, there are napkins—”

 

“I just want a fucking salary at this point,” Rey sighed. “I’ll dig trenches. But I bet even that sort of job would only take bloody Betas.”

 

Finn raised an eyebrow, looking up at her. His thumb hovered against the screen.

 

All of a sudden, he clicked.

 

Rey’s eyes widened.

 

“What did you just do?”

 

“Applied for a job. For you.”

 

“I got that bit,” Rey snapped, panic entering her voice. She took her phone back, hurriedly reading the job advert. Finn’s declaration wasn’t quite true. He had clicked ‘Apply’, but the details were yet to be confirmed. Rey glared briefly at him; Finn shrugged in return.

 

“Wait – _Beta_?!” It was there, clear as day in her application form. “When did you do that?”

 

“While you were talking. Peanut, we both know this is wrong. It’s wrong that I have to be in the _army_ to be taken seriously. The fact that you have to fight off a hundred other Omegas, hell, even a thousand… Honestly, I wish I could wake up and find the world’s turned into a utopia where this shit didn’t exist.”

 

The corner of Rey’s mouth lifted. “Fight the system from the inside? Finn, it’s a – chalet hostess job. Wait, _that’s_ the job you applied for?”

 

“I’m not saying you destroy the system. I just want you not to have to cry every time you think about your overdraft.” Finn nodded once to the phone, to the ‘Apply’ button that glowed orange onscreen. “Just try it.”

 

He shrugged. “You never know.”

 

Rey pressed her lips together in thought, staring blankly at the near-finished taco on the sharing plate. It wasn’t that she’d always hated being an Omega. In the early days, when her first Heats took place at age 16, she loved them.

 

Plutt didn’t want an Omega stinking out his shop so he’d send her away for a week, to stay in some heat hotel with basic amenities and a fully-stocked fridge. She’d pad around those rooms barefoot, chomping on chocolate and drinking water by the gallon. With the thick scent-blocking curtains drawn over the windows and the door, she rode the dildo she’d saved up to buy from her meagre pocket money.

 

It was one act of kindness in Plutt’s selfish life, and those Heats were her happiest memories.

 

Now though, with slipping back into the red whenever an emergency purchase of suppressants took place, or yet another Alpha thought it okay to attack her eyeballs with three dick pics in a row, she struggled to see the positives outweighing the negatives.

 

Rey sighed. Before she could think about it anymore, she pressed ‘Apply’.

 

It was the next morning, when an email with ‘Interview Request’ appeared in her inbox, that Rey felt her heart slip down into her stomach. As if her whole body had reversed, flipped upside down, out of sheer panic.

 

It took Finn two rings before he picked up.

 

“Yeah?” he asked, voice throaty from just being woken up.

 

“Finn. I’m… officially a Beta.”

 

* * *

 

 

Above Rey, the clock ticked. It was a wide clock face, and its casing was a highly polished bronze and oak. Rey swallowed. Adjusting her position in the buttoned leather high back chair, she brushed her fingers through her hair. She swallowed a grimace. The Beta shampoo had made it drier than usual, and it felt brittle to the touch.

 

Rey could’ve tried, but she couldn’t hide her secret from Kay, her roommate. They’d met on Craigslist six months ago when Finn had first gone into the army. Luckily, it hadn’t turned out to be a horror story. Kay Connix paid her rent, did her part of the housework and didn’t have any weird habits to speak of. She was studying to be a police officer, and she approached anything as either something to broken down into a plan or something to be deduced.

 

“So how are you going to do it?” she’d asked from across their dining table, pouring wine into Rey’s glass as they tucked into half a cheesecake, leftovers that Kay had nabbed from her faculty’s Christmas party.

 

“Uh…” Rey chuckled. “My current heat suppressants, I suppose. I’ve got a couple of months left on them.”

 

Kay waved her fork. “And…?”

 

“I – thought that’d be enough.” Rey looked down, focusing hard on the cheesecake sprinkled with chocolate flakes and not on Kay.

 

It took Kay five seconds to burst into action.

 

“Rey. You stink of Omega. They’ll catch on the moment you step into the building!” Swallowing the bite of cheesecake, she threw down her spoon and jumped up. “C’mere,” she ordered, grabbing Rey by her wrist, dragging her off the chair.

 

Kay led Rey into their shared bathroom, shoving her body wash and shampoo into Rey’s arms.

 

“Technically, as a training police officer, I shouldn’t encourage this but…” Kay shook her head. “Whatever, you’re my roommate, and we need you to start paying rent on time.”

 

“I _want_ to start paying rent on time.”

 

Kay switched on the shower, testing the water. “If you want to properly get rid of your scent, you’re going to use this body wash daily. Do _not_ skip a shower, even if you’re feeling down. Wash your hair thoroughly with the shampoo, and I mean thoroughly. From your root right down to the tips. When’s your interview?”

 

Rey blinked. “Two weeks.”

 

Kay gestured to the shower and the water spattering against the shower wall.

 

“Get going then.”

 

The platinum-blonde woman sat before Rey now, two weeks later, was the definition of mercurial. She had a spine of steel, her back ramrod straight as she scanned, with thinned lips, the paper before her. Occasionally she wrote something, and her pen flowed across the paper with learned, sharp rapidity. A name plaque, gold-plated and polished to a shine, gave her name: Gwendoline Phasma.

 

All the while, the clock ticked. On the hour, a cuckoo appeared from a little door, singing sweetly.

 

Phasma raised her eyes to meet Rey’s. She gave a low noise coming from the back of her throat and focused her attention back on her paper.

 

Rey knew Kay’s advice had worked. The receptionist hadn’t clocked her, and neither had Phasma.

 

It didn’t stop the butterflies in her stomach though. And as the cuckoo retreated back behind its door, Rey felt her stomach rumble.

 

Clutching her stomach, she aimed a weak smile at Phasma.

 

“Apologies.”

 

Phasma’s returning smile was like the releasing of the pin on a grenade.

 

“Well,” she began. This was the grenade being thrown. “Rey. Your CV is expansive. Plenty of odd jobs, here and there. Previous service experience. Which you gained working throughout your degree. But continuing work at your uncle’s… metal shop? From 2010 to… today. So, you worked there throughout your degree too. Is that a – misprint?”

 

 _She knows it damn well isn’t_ , Rey thought as she shifted forward, making a show of looking at her CV as Phasma pointedly pushed it towards her.

 

“I took two jobs while I was at university.”

 

Mostly because Plutt couldn’t be bothered driving her to university and refused to pay for driving lessons.

 

“Hm.”

 

“I think it shows I’ve got a good work ethic,” Rey said into the silence, immediately grimacing. Phasma’s shark-like smile returned.

 

“Yes, of course. Miss Niima, do you understand what exactly we do here?”

 

“You’re an agency.” Rey breathed, reciting what she’d read on the official website. “You hire chalet hostesses for your clients, matching each hostess to the correct client so you can guarantee a smooth, high-class service.”

 

Phasma nodded once. “You have done your research. Well done, Miss Niima.”

 

Smoothing down her pencil skirt, she stood. Her athletic form loomed over Rey as she widened her smile and offered her hand.

 

“Thank you for coming in, Miss Niima.”

 

Rey frowned, flicking her tongue against the inside of her cheek. Clearing her throat, she stood, taking Phasma’s hand.

 

“Do you have any further questions?” Phasma asked. Her face was still a mask of a wide, open smile as she tugged at the hem of her suit jacket, brushing a piece of lint from her lapel.

 

Rey slung her rucksack over her shoulder. She wasn’t stupid. And standing in her best dress, a simple scoop neck grey dress with her brown jeans belt around her waist, stinking of Beta body wash and Beta shampoo, she felt angry.

 

“Why did you see me?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

Rey didn’t answer. Phasma’s smile faltered slightly as she breathed out, her nostrils flaring. Perhaps no one had ever dared call her out before.

 

“It isn’t often that we have candidates like you, Miss Niima. To go from working in a metal shop to working with prominent society figures, serving them lunch – I wanted to see what you were made of.”

 

Rey scanned Phasma briefly, her eyes flitting up and down the woman’s body. She looked like the sort of woman who faced everything in her life like it was a battle, and she was most certainly the woman who had to come out on top; even if meant squashing others under her thumb.

 

Rey sighed, deflated.

 

“Thank you for seeing me, Miss Phasma,” she said, and she closed the door behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

“Do. Not. Ask,” Rey snapped as she slid into the booth, opposite Finn. He glanced up, laughing as he saw Rey’s glare. He raised his hands.

 

“I wouldn’t dare, Peanut.” He pushed a large portion of fries towards her with his forefinger. “On the house, Maz said.”

 

He winked. “Interview special.”

 

Rey lightened with a smile. Sitting up, she dug in, slathering the chips in a combination of ketchup and vinegar.

 

“It was that kind of an interview?”

 

“That and I haven’t really eaten all day.”

 

“Maz thought you might’ve not.”

 

There was silence between them for a while, broken only by sounds of eating, Rey giving soft moans of appreciation at each batch of fries that passed her mouth.

 

Finn grimaced. “You sound like you’re having sex.”

 

Rey wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, sticking a middle finger up at him. Finn laughed, his shoulders shaking as Rey exaggerated her moans, pretending to slurp on the mouthful of chips. He shook his head.

 

“I am so glad we never had sex.”

 

“Am I not appealing to you, Alpha?” Rey said, her mouth full of fries. Shaking his head, Finn chucked a napkin at her as she giggled.

 

“Learn to use a napkin.”

 

It was their way of saying _it’s fine, I love you anyway and things will be better soon_. However shitty an interview had been.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a week later that Rey was underneath the kitchen sink, fixing a leak because it was cheaper than the landlord charging them a 20 quid fee for simply coming in and telling them exactly what they already knew when Kay walked in the room.

 

“Rey?”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“Phone call.”

 

“Coming!” Dumping her tools on the kitchen floor, Rey slithered out from underneath the sink, wiping her forehead with the hem of her t-shirt. Kay handed over the phone.

 

“I think it’s about that job you interviewed for,” she said, heading back into the living room, sitting among papers and textbooks.

 

“Oh.” Rey swallowed, straightening up as she put the phone to her ear. “Hello, Rey Niima speaking.”

 

“Miss Niima.” Phasma’s clipped tone sounded cross from the first syllable. As if she were disgusted by the mere thought of having to make this phone call. “I apologise for not getting back to you sooner. It’s been… rather busy here as of late.”

 

Rey tucked her free arm against her stomach, curling her legs up to her chest. The basin continued to drip water irregularly behind her. She waited for Phasma to continue.

 

“We considered your application for a long time, and I’m… pleased to say that it is good news for you. We’d like to offer you the job.”

 

Rey always thought she would feel elation when she finally got offered a job. As Phasma spoke, however, what she felt was an odd sense of trepidation. Her mind whirled with thoughts mostly made up of _holy shit_ and _is this it for the rest of my life?_

 

Shaking her head, Rey cleared her throat. “Oh. Thank you.”

 

“It was not my decision, Miss Niima, I would like to make that clear. Your qualifications made you second in line to this job.”

 

“What happened to the top candidate?” Rey asked, deciding that was a better question to ask than simply swearing down the phone at her new employer. She still made a rude gesture at the phone, however. “I understand if you can’t say.”

 

“I won’t elaborate, but it came to our attention that the first girl wasn’t as clean as we had been led to believe. The only question that remains Miss Niima is, can you get an overnight train tonight?”

 

“Sure. To where?”

 

“Austria.”

 

Rey swallowed back a squeak. “Austria.”

 

Phasma continued, unabated. “We already have a girl up there, but this is a large party attending over the New Year period and another pair of hands is needed. Rose Tico will meet you at the station and show you the ropes. The details of your train and your ticket have been e-mailed to you.”

 

A click told Rey the phone call was over.

 

Rey blinked, once, twice.

 

“Holy shit!” Scrambling to stand, Rey sprinted into the living room. “Kay! Kay!”

 

Kay looked up from her papers. “What?”

 

Rey ran her fingers through her ponytail. She shook her head.

 

“Rey?”

 

She gathered herself, breathing through her nose.

 

“Do you, uh, have any more body wash? Shampoo?”

 

“Loads, why?”

 

Rey gulped. “I’m – um – going to Austria.”


	2. Chapter 2

In London, the cold was brittle.

 

Austrian winters seemed like a winter that had been taken from a storybook.

 

The train made its way through snow-capped mountain ranges. Rey took it all in. The Alps were a crisp white, winter sun throwing blue-tinged shadows over adrenaline-seeking skiers, slipping and sliding their way down the highest, most difficult peaks.

 

Down below, the village was a scene Rey had only seen before on her grandmother’s chocolate tin box. She’d found it as a kid at the back of a kitchen cabinet, and immediately been enchanted.

 

It was a snowy Victorian scene. Beamed houses had smoke coming in tendrils from their chimneys, and their windows were lit gold. A green Christmas tree stood tall in the middle of the scene, an island in the middle of a lake of ice. Children and mums and fathers skated among one another, all of them with rosy cheeks and scarves around their necks, mittens covering their tiny hands. It was more adventure than Rey had ever seen.

 

She stole it. Hid it away in a corner of her bedroom cupboard. Then, whenever the kids bullied her for not having new shoes come the new term or found herself foraging for supper when Plutt didn’t come home from the pub, she sat in her bed. She ate cheese sandwiches and made voices to match the people in the snowy scene.

 

She struggled a little bit to give voices to the plump gentlemen in the scene, but she always knew how the mums would fuss over their children, and comfort them when they got too cold or scared.

 

Rey tilted her head, pressing her forehead to the train window, idly watching the town pass by. It was all Starbucks and restaurants and outdoor clothing shops. Rental ski places had their posters hanging in their windows, advertising in large fonts new offers. Christmas lights flashed images of Santas stuck in chimneys and reindeer leading the sleigh. The snow was muddy and sleety from people’s footsteps.

 

Slowing, the train passed the town, arriving at its destination. The train station was small and nondescript concrete, a flashback to the date it was built.

 

Rey slung her bag over her shoulder, moving with the crowd. Showing her passport when needed, she stepped out of the train station. Her eyes immediately met the high winter sun.

 

And a sign, with her name in basic type font.

 

The girl holding it was short, with a ponytail that bobbed as she waved in Rey’s direction. Her face was framed by straight bangs that flicked into a natural curl at the end.

 

“Hi! I’m Rose,” she said, “Rose Tico.”

 

“Rey Niima,” Rey replied, taking Rose’s offer of a handshake.

 

“Normally I’d take you around the town and everything, show you where the actual best coffee is made – it’s a friend of mine, Finnish, he’s nice – but I got a phone call from Poe before I left to pick you up saying they’re arriving tonight, so we’d best get going.”

 

Rey nodded, hesitant as she smiled, letting go of Rose’s hand. “Okay.”

 

Rose effortlessly picked up Rey’s bag, leading Rey to a black estate car. It was sleek, informing her what kind of family this was. Who she was actually going to be catering for. Middle-class suburbanites. Just as she’d expected.

 

“This is the car the family drive, but we can use it when they’re not here to pick up groceries and other things. And them! When they arrive. Don’t worry, I’ll drive,” Rose added as she opened the boot, sliding Rey’s bag inside. She grimaced at her own words. “I mean – obviously I’ll drive, you don’t know your way yet…”

 

Rose paused, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. All I have to talk to up at the chalet is the television right now so I’m not great at the whole… doing talking thing. See. Doing talking.”

 

“I get it,” Rey said, sliding into the front passenger seat as Rose shut the car boot and approached the driver’s door. “I call it ‘excitable puppy syndrome’. I have it whenever I go to see my friend Finn. My uncle’s… not much for talking.”

 

Getting inside, Rose started the car. They were both quiet for a while as she drove out of town. It was as buildings gave way to the forest road that Rose spoke up.

 

“The agency said this was your first chalet job?”

 

Rey nodded, watching the trees passed by the car window. Mud splashed the tyres. Ski lifts moved slowly in the far distance, the skiers themselves little dots among the snow.

 

“The work’s easy. Cook, clean, serve them food – the family are okay, so much better than the horror stories I’ve heard of from other hosts around here. Apparently, one guy had to call the air ambulance in after his client decided to tackle a black diamond run on his first try. Some kid called Armitage, total asshole apparently.” Rose rolled her eyes, sighing. “Basically, rich people are the  _worst_.”

 

Rey bit her bottom lip, thinking. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater down over her knuckles, tucking her fingers down between her knees.

 

“So,” she started. “How rich are the rich people we’re looking after?”

 

“ _Rich_ ,” Rose replied. She turned right onto a narrow side road, and they drove into a thicker copse of trees, where snow gradually began to take over the slush. “Leia used to own this huge tech company, Alliance? They own shares in Google apparently. Anyway, she handed over the reins a couple of years ago and ran for Congress. Got in, unseated a major Republican. Han, he owns a number of sports teams.”

 

Rey gulped. “Wow. And Poe, is that their…?”

 

“He’s Leia’s assistant. Did you think he was their—”

 

“You mentioned he rang you,” Rey shrugged. “I assumed.”

 

“Well.” Rose laughed. “No, Poe’s not their son. Ben Solo is the prodigal sprog. He’s… fine. Mostly. To be honest, he rarely turns up. When he does, our orders are to get Han drunk enough that he’s friendly, but not confrontational.”

 

“Right…” The rest of Rey’s response died in her throat when she saw the chalet.

 

It was possibly the largest in the area, an imposing figure of dark grey, with snow covering the roof and steps up towards the veranda. And while the town had been the gaudy celebrations of Christmas, the chalet was plain, only white fairy lights lining the windows. Somehow, that made it all the more grandiose. Rey felt the roof of her mouth dry as she heaved her bag onto her shoulder.

 

When she was in London, slurping chips and fixing sinks, serving bigwigs while posing as a Beta seemed easy. A game. Walking up the steps towards the front door, led on by Rose, it felt too real.

 

Stepping into the heated entrance hall, where she was instantly faced with what was probably most definitely a real Picasso, Rey swallowed. The roof of her mouth felt like sandpaper.

 

Rose shrugged off her coat, beaming at Rey over her shoulder.

 

“Okay! Like I said, the family’s arriving tonight, so we’ll make this quick. C’mon.” Rose hurried away from Rey, heading into a small passageway. Peeling off her coat, throwing off her jumper, Rey followed.

 

“Living room – Netflix, books, all that,” Rose said by way of introduction. The fire roared in a stone hearth, one well-worn leather sofa and a wingback armchair crowded around it. A fabric sofa, covered by a purple velvet throw, was positioned in front of a set of ceiling-to-floor bookshelves, facing a widescreen television.

 

On the bookshelves, stories and trinkets sat side by side. Rocks that looked suspiciously like lava, old toys and worn baseball caps were arranged among the books intermittently. Photos showed a chunky baby with a mass of black curls sleeping in a cot, and a young woman sat in the middle of two men, a faraway look in her eyes as the two men talked to someone off-camera, the brown-haired man possessing a lopsided smile. Another photo showed the blonde-haired man dipping the woman as they laughed, staring at the camera.

 

They all seemed too personal to be belonging in a holiday home. They seemed like the sort of photos that should’ve been in pride of place, seen so much every day that they became one with the house, skipped over by everyone who passed them.

 

Here, they were a focal point. A reminder of something.

 

“Hey!” Rey looked up, seeing Rose duck back into the living room, her head peeking out around the door. “Tour now, explore later.”

 

Rey hurried to join Rose. The living room led off to a medium-sized kitchen. A kitchen island was covered with pots and pans, the fridge-freezer standing by the door.

 

“Kitchen, obviously.” Turning on her heel, Rose pulled open the fridge door. “Always fully stocked. You can eat what you want, but always keep it somewhat fully stocked. The wine cellar’s just through that door, next to the Aga. That's a life-saver. Okay, next room, let’s go.”

 

Rey was struck by a sudden daze as she stared around her, into the contents of the fridge. Caviar was stacked alongside green grapes, cheeses with unpronounceable names stocked next to a half-open packet of pitta bread.

 

“I’ve never seen a fully-stocked fridge before,” Rey said under her breath, her stomach rumbling softly. When she looked at Rose, she saw her features soften, sympathetic.

 

“Most of my tips go to my folks back home,” she said matter-of-factly. “Actually, my sister, Paige, works here too. She’s in town, works in the ski rental store. Say I sent you, she’ll hook you up.”

 

“Great. But I don’t ski.”

 

“Neither do I. Snowboarder. Ooh, do you want a pitta bread?”

 

“God yes.”

 

There was quiet for a few minutes as Rey loaded her pitta bread with cooked chicken and a creamy goat’s cheese. Rose stuffed hers with lettuce, bacon and tomatoes, slathering it in a Caesar salad dressing.

 

“Quick tip: avoid the caviar,” Rose said, mouth full.

 

“What, is it expensive?” Rey nibbled on an escaping lump of goat’s cheese, catching it with her tongue.

 

Rose snorted. “And disgusting. It just tastes like money. I’d prefer my mom’s  _pho ga_  any day. Now, the dining room.”

 

The dining room had a small set of two sofas, leather and button-backed with cushions arranged to look scattered, while the dining table was a long wooden table and two benches, both polished to a shine.

 

Rose rattled off times the Organa-Solos usually sat down to ate and returned through the kitchen and the passageway towards the entrance way. Rey brushed her hands of crumbs, wiping her mouth as Rose pointed up the stairs.

 

“Okay, bedroom. Grab your bag.” Together, they hurried up the staircase. The bannister was painted white, rough underneath Rey’s palm. Rose gestured as she spoke. “Last room on the left.”

 

Rey jogged down the narrow corridor, pausing when she pushed open the door. It was the smallest room in the house and Blu-Tack marks scarred the wall. Two wooden beds were set either side of the room, with storage underneath for clothes and laundry.

 

One of the beds was neatly made-up, white towels folded at the foot of the bed. The left one was a cacophony of wrinkled bedsheets, pummelled pillows and a tossed-aside duvet, with a pile of books beside the bed stacked on the floor.

 

Rey hid a smile as Rose fell onto her bed as if welcoming an old friend, sitting cross-legged on the mattress and picking up a book, cracking the spine as she opened it.

 

“How long have we got until pick-up?” Rey asked, moving further into the room and dropping her bag on the bed.

 

“Couple of hours,” Rose answered. She was already nose-deep in her book. “But it takes an hour to get to the airfield.”

 

“Airfield?” Rey frowned.

 

Unzipping her bag, Rey peered at the title. Her eyebrows shot up towards her hairline.

 

“I know,” Rose said. Her eyes didn’t leave the book. “Shocking. A female Alpha, reading about engineering.”

 

Rey paused. She gulped.

 

“You’re an Alpha?”

 

“And you’re a Beta. No problem, right?”

 

Glancing over her shoulder, Rey flashed a grin, bringing out a brand-new bottle of Beta body wash. Kay had given it to her, with a ribbon tied around the bottle, before Rey had left.  _A good luck present_ , she’d called it.

 

“No problem.”

 

There was a pregnant pause. “You’re wondering how female Alphas Knot.”

 

Rey wrinkled her nose. “No!”

 

“It’s alright if you are.”

 

“I am. A little bit. I’ve never been told,” she added as if that made her curiosity any less cliché.

 

“We… um… when we go into Rut – the ladies…” The heat in Rose’s cheeks grew. She gestured in a sort of downwards motion from her groin. Rey frowned.

 

“You…?”

 

“We… It’s been a while since I did it. But uh… we squirt!” Rose burst out the word, immediately clapping her hands over her mouth, clearly regretting the description. “ _Gah_ , that’s the _worst_ description of the process, I hate using it but it’s the nearest we have to describe what goes on. And they only gave us the vaguest details about it in my school, so, you can imagine – female and an Alpha… it made my first Rut a bit of a surprise.”

 

A comfortable silence settled between them. Discarding the body wash, stuffing it back inside her bag, Rey stood, taking out her clothes and unfolding and re-folding, stuffing them into the under-bed storage.

 

“I wouldn’t have taken you for an Alpha. If you don’t mind me saying.”

 

“It’s okay. I don’t… act like normal Alphas, I know.” Rose let down her hair, combing her fingers through her bangs. She quietened, thoughtful. “It trips up some people.”

 

The companionable silence became a tension after Rose spoke, growing larger in scope. It wasn't a feeling of distrust though. Rey could sense that. If she sniffed the air, she knew she’d feel the tang of wariness.

 

Rose was questioning whether she could trust her.

 

Wordlessly, Rey put her packing to one side. She sat on her bed, opposite Rose and crossed her legs. She stared out the window, waiting.

 

They were at the back of the property, their view filled with the fresh dark greens of the fir trees. Below, Rey heard soft footsteps in the snow and conversations between skiers about best runs and plans for afterwards when the sun had gone down.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Rey saw Rose put her book to one side. She curled her knees up to her chest, rubbing her palms on her shins.

 

“Okay. You’re probably not going to believe me, the agency definitely didn’t – but I was working this chalet one time. This girl said she was a Beta. She smelt like a Beta, for sure. Anyway, she went into Heat. Turned out she was an Omega. She was on her hands and knees, begging me to knot her and it was – it was just…” Rose shook her head, raising her hands as if to wave it off, erase the memories. “It wasn’t good.”

 

Rey picked up the body wash, discarded on her bedsheets. She flicked open the lid, closing it again with a click. She worried her bottom lip, her tongue darting out to lick the corners of her mouth.

 

“Bet that put you off Omegas.” She cringed instantly. “I’m sorry, that was the wrong thing to say.”

 

Rose shrugged. “You’re right. My biology demands I have an Omega, but seeing that, seeing what a Heat makes someone… It made me think of what I say and what I do during my Ruts and, well. Basically, I put myself on some very strong blockers after that incident.”

 

The tension was broken with a shrill ringtone. Rey yelped, retrieving her phone from her jeans pocket.

 

Finn’s face was on-screen, requesting FaceTime.

 

Rey flicked her eyes toward Rose.

 

“It’s Finn, my friend, he wants to make sure—”

 

“Go ahead.” Rose flipped onto her back, continuing her reading. Only the gnawing of her bottom lip gave away the weight of their conversation. Running her hand over her ponytail, Rey accepted the call.

 

Finn broke into a grin the moment he saw her.

 

“Hey Peanut!” Behind him, a cheer rang around Taco Doña, people throwing ‘hello’ across the booths. Rey facepalmed, shaking her head.

 

“Don’t be like that. Maz insisted. She wanted to see that you arrived safely.”

 

“Maz is starting to sound a lot like you these days.”

 

Finn gave a single-shouldered shrug. “What can I say? We spend a lot of time together.”

 

He stood up from the booth, leaving money in his wake. Rey watched the city behind him, the slow-moving traffic and distant sirens. Finn’s head ducked out of frame for a moment as he unlocked his car, sliding in. He attached his phone to its cradle, leaving him three quarters in the frame as he drove.

 

“So, tell me what this job’s like.”

 

“Easy enough. Cook for, clean for, serve some rich bigwigs. Fix stuff that needs fixing. Finn, the chalet is  _huge_. There’s a whole wing that they don’t even use. Except when the ‘really big’ parties come along.”

 

“Woah. You’re doing this all on your own?”

 

“No, no. I’ve got Rose to help me out.” Rey turned her head, beckoning to Rose. “Hey, Rose! Come say hello to Finn.”

 

“The famous Finn, huh?” Rose got up from her bed, clambering onto Rey’s, sitting beside her, tilting her head until she was in the frame. She waved. “Hi!”

 

“Huh. Hi.” Finn glanced briefly at her. Playfully, he saluted her. “Hello, fellow chalet girl.”

 

“We prefer the term hostess.”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

“Finn!” Rey admonished.

 

“It’s okay,” Rose said, her tone switching back to that usual brightness. “I’ve got to go and – do something. Get the car ready. Yeah.”

 

“Car ready?” Finn asked as Rose left the bedroom, her footsteps quick down the corridor.

 

“Yeah! We’ve got to go and pick the family up in an hour.”

 

Finn nodded. “Gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting your co-hostess to be so…”

 

Rey flicked her gaze up at the sound of Rose’s footsteps pausing. She took the volume on her phone down a couple of notches.

 

“So… what?” she asked, gently crossing her fingers.

 

“I don’t know. Hard to describe.”

 

“She’s cool though,” Rey said. Rose’s footsteps resumed. “She’s an Alpha—”

 

“Wait, what? Peanut—”

 

“And that’s  _fine_ , what with me being a Beta and all,” Rey hissed, glancing to the bedroom door. Finn’s body language tightened, his lips drawing into a thin line.

 

“I don’t know, this sounds—”

 

Rose’s footsteps paused again. Rey barely had time before she heard Rose breaking into a run. Almost instantly, Rose burst back into the room, grabbing the phone from Rey.

 

“Finn, Rose wants to—” Rey tried to say, but Rose had fury in her eyes.

 

“Sorry, what are you trying to say about female Alphas?”

 

On her phone screen, Rey saw Finn blink. The cogs of his brain moved, shifted, but all that came out in the face of Rose’s indignance was a soft “uh…”

 

“Female Alphas are no more a threat than male Alphas, and the fact that we still have to—”

 

“Hey, that’s not what I’m saying,” Finn retorted.

 

Rey blew out her cheeks, pursing her lips. Standing, she grabbed the body wash, the Beta shampoo and her wash bag. She headed down the corridor towards the main bathroom. Alpha on Alpha battle of opinions based on a miscommunication.

 

It was going to take a while to sort out.

 

* * *

 

The airfield was quiet, a small crowd of its staff gathered underneath the shelter of a hangar, smoking and swapping jokes.

 

Breezy Christmas pop played quietly on the car radio. Rose blew on her coffee, her hands cradling the paper cup. She sipped, immediately grimacing. She smacked her lips together.

 

“Ah, burnt tongue.” She fit the coffee into one of the drinks holders between them.

 

Rey leaned her arm on the car window, her fist propped up against her cheek. She thrummed a rhythm on her knee while she watched the afternoon sky.

 

“So.” Rose protracted the word, shifting in her seat. Her eyes focused on Rey’s for a moment, before they swerved back towards the tarmac. “What’s your story with, uh… Finn?”

 

Rey caught the subtext immediately in Rose’s too-casual tone. She played surprised anyway. “You don’t like him.”

 

“Of course, I don’t. He’s stubborn, he doesn’t listen to anyone else’s opinion, and he’s—”

 

“When I finally wrenched my phone off you, you two were discussing the differences between American and British culture in regard to the evolution of Alphas.”

 

Rose’s mouth dropped open, and she raised a finger as if to argue. Deciding against it, she conceded with a shrug. “He’s interesting.”

 

Rey smiled. “Do you really want to know?”

 

“If you want to tell me,” Rose answered, the very opposite of casual.

 

“Okay.” Adjusting her position in the seat, Rey faced Rose. “Finn came to the UK with his aunt when he was 12. I was the only kid in the school who didn’t mock his accent. I also punched a girl who was teasing him about it. We’ve been friends ever since. Just friends,” she added.

 

It was an infuriating reflex, built into her by coos from Finn’s aunt’s friends who commented on how cute they would be when they eventually Bonded, and stupid rhymes made up by even stupider kids.

 

Rose frowned.

 

“I kind of guessed.”

 

“Oh. Yeah, yeah.” Rey bit her lip, looking away. She turned in her seat, switching her attention to the staff crowded underneath the hangar. Their lit cigarettes glowed in the evening light.

 

“Obvious,” she muttered.

 

“I know Alpha and Beta relationships aren’t uncommon. Our current President," Rose gave a heavy sigh, "married an Alpha."

 

Her laughter bubbled up from under her tongue, bursting out into a single giggle. Rose grinned in response. She had a point. Betas weren’t the weaklings that ancient history had painted them to be; their biology was just inexplicable. While they didn’t suffer from Heats and didn’t endure Ruts, they could take a Knot from an Alpha and even form Knots with Omegas.

 

What they couldn’t do was take the Bond. The reason was unknown why, and no-one had ever really bothered to find a plausible explanation. It was just ‘one of those things’.

 

(Once, when she’d run out of money and suppressants and was changing her sheets daily while her biology screamed at her for an Alpha, Rey begged inwardly to somehow wake up as a Beta. To have some semblance of control, instead of losing her mind to arousal and desperation, riding a dildo for days because she chose to fill her car with petrol over buying an extra suppressants pack.)

 

Engine noise filled the air.

 

“They’re here!”

 

Rose jumped out of the car, hurrying to stand in front of the headlights. Rey followed, standing beside her. Their scarves flapped as the wind grew stronger. Above them, a jet came in to land.

 

Rey took a long breath in. The cold air filled her lungs. It was crisp and harsh on her throat.

 

 _I can do this_ , she said to herself. _I can do this, I can do this._

 

A distance away, the jet landed on the airfield. The staff approached as its engine cut out. The stairs leading down to the tarmac folded out, the pilot smiling at his passengers. Rey peered as a group climbed down.

 

One was a short lady, her grey hair swept up into a bun. She wore an elegant sapphire blue coat, its thick collar covering her jawline. A grey-haired gentleman followed, wearing a brown leather jacket. A baseball cap covered his face. As the group got closer, Rey saw that he wore aviator sunglasses, and the leather was beaten, well-worn.

 

“Hi kid,” he greeted Rose like an old friend, patting her on the shoulder. He gestured to Rey. “Who’s this?”

 

“Rey Niima,” Rey said. She offered out her hand. “New hostess.”

 

“Han,” the gentleman said, shaking her hand. Rey gently sniffed the air. The scent of bonded Omega lingered around him.

 

“Leia,” the grey-haired woman greeted, and she drew Rey into a gentle hug and the faint scent of bonded Alpha.

 

“You call her ‘the boss’,” Han remarked, and Leia rolled her eyes. Han gestured to a tall gentleman approaching, wearing a lumberjack shirt and a heavy winter coat with a sheepskin lining. “This here’s Chewie. Don’t upset him or he’ll break your arm.”

 

Chewie’s chin and mouth were covered by a long, thick beard. He looked Alpha. Rey swallowed back her surprise when she shook his hand and smelt the neutral scent of Beta instead.

 

“I do not break arms,” Chewie said. His accent, a familiar Baltic lilt, was accompanied by a permanent low grumble. “Unless someone thinks I am Russian.” He smiled then, revealing a set of pearly white teeth.

 

“Very proud Latvian, you see,” Han explained. He turned on his heel, cupping his hands around his mouth.

 

“Hey! C’mon son! Get off your phone and get over here!”

 

Leia shook her head. Rey looked in the direction of Han’s call.

 

In the distance, a male stood by the jet’s steps. He had his phone in his hand, his thumb moving quickly over the screen as if texting someone.

 

“Probably playing Candy Crush,” Chewie muttered, watching him.

 

Rose made a low noise at the back of her throat, rolling onto the balls of her feet.

 

“Oh boy. Better crack open the champagne,” she muttered.

 

Rey narrowed her eyes. The male was lithe in build, his coat a brown check pattern with a black lapel. His long black curls fluttered in the wind. His left hand held onto his suitcase, a leather satchel propped on top of it.

 

“Ben!” Han shouted the name at the top of his lungs. Finally, he looked up from his phone.

 

His body seemed to tighten with a tension that was familiar to Rey. It was the same tension she had when her blood was boiling, and she was preparing for an argument with Plutt.

 

He picked up his suitcase, dragging it behind him as he walked quickly over the tarmac, towards the group.

 

Rey gulped. Watching him get closer was a revelation. He wasn’t as lithe as his silhouette made her think. He was huge. Thick thighs, barely contained by black jeans, gave him a stride with purpose. His shoulders were broad, broader than that of Chewie’s. The one button on his coat strained against his muscular torso. He wore a cashmere polo neck sweater, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw.

 

He came to a stop in the middle of the group.

 

Quickly, Rey pulled her scarf over her chin and mouth.

 

His eyes, the same colour as his mother’s, burned dark in the evening light.

 

His lips, too full for his face and yet perfect for his features, thinned. He reluctantly stuck out a hand. Rey’s cheeks burned behind her scarf.

 

She took his hand. A rush of warmth filled her, pinking the tips of her ears. Her mouth watered.

 

“Ben Solo,” he said. His voice was stiff.

 

“Rey Niima,” she murmured. Ben’s head tilted just to the left. His dark eyes narrowed. As if figuring her out.

 

Ben smelt Alpha. Not the faint scent of his mother, or the muted scent of Rose.

 

Ben Solo was horrendously, perfectly, in-his-prime, unblocked Alpha.

 

Rey’s thoughts dialled down to one single feeling:

 

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this isn't going to be a three-parter. I'm thinking maybe four parts, maybe five, but don't quote me on that.
> 
> Plus, that E rating is going to be earned. Soon. I PROMISE. (I like building up the UST, I'm sorry.)


End file.
